The Cold Flame Alchemist
by Meneil
Summary: It was at this point that Lust truly fell in love with him. She wanted nothing more than to break his supposedly indomitable will... to see those cold eyes melt into pain, to make him realize how frail his dreams and desires truly were... she was Lust, and so, she lusted to take him. The showdown between Roy and Lust beneath Central HQ.


A/N: Mainly a written version of Brotherhood's episode 2-6. I say 'mainly' because I skip some of the more comedic parts, or strategy-related talk and actions. I have plans to make Chapter 2 non-cannon content, assuming I manage to finish writing it.

**The Cold Flame Alchemist**

_How merciless._

Lust had heard all about the infamous Colonel Roy Mustang. Hell, she'd been keeping tabs on him, leading him with false clues and information. But it was always from afar, more like a game of chess-through-mail, where the opponent's face was never seen, save a single still portrait image. The stories, however, had failed to do him justice.

The moment she walked through the entrance, his gun pointed straight at her heart. The idiot Jean, like the lower-IQ life form he was, was too busy gawking in half shock and half fear to even pretend to be a threat. But the colonel had a focus that failed to be swayed even by the most beautiful women. His first question revealed his resolve:

"Tell me, do you know who Maes Hughes is?"

She'd started to answer with some snarky response, knowing full well how much he meant to Roy. She'd barely gotten a few words out when he fired his gun. Quietly Lust gasped in pain, feeling the searing heat in her leg.

"On your knees!" He barked, wearing the darkest of expressions. His dark eyes were merciless, his jaw set in a thin line. At that moment, Lust saw just how badly he was willing to persevere for his dead friend. The subsequent power struggle, as Lust spoke again and was answered by a volley of gunfire... Each bullet caused her to gasp in pain. But she loved how merciless he was; how steadfast he was when most fools babbled or let their guard down against a true beauty like her.

It was at this point that Lust truly fell in love with him. She wanted nothing more than to break his supposedly indomitable will... to see those cold eyes melt into pain, to make him realize how frail his dreams and desires truly were. Perhaps this was not love defined in the traditional human sense. But she was _Lust_, and so, she lusted to take him. She would make him belong to her... 

* * *

"She's dust. I definitely cremated her." Roy held his nose, desperately trying to block out the smell and the memories that came with it. He swallowed the rising bile in his throat, flickering horror images of burning Ishvalans beginning to surface.

On the outside, he kept his cool – the only sign of his discomfort from the way he clutched his nose. The Flame Alchemist rarely showed emotion, mainly because he didn't have the time to do that while surviving. His subordinate, Jean Havoc, was too busy looking around the storeroom to notice anything amiss with Roy. Or maybe the colonel was just that good of an actor.

"For all we know, she could still regenerate," Roy looked around warily as he spoke. The entire area had been decimated by their last makeshift bomb, various pieces of pipe and wood littering the ground. Their foe could strike again at any moment. "So stay alert."

"Yes, sir." The words had barely left Havoc's mouth, before his scream immediately followed.

Roy's heart skipped a beat. He whipped around, seeing Havoc... and the two claws which had pierced cleanly through his chest. There was nothing he could do. Roy stared with wide eyes. The attack had been brutal, so sudden, without a second of warning. If he had been targeted instead... He probably would have been facing the same fate. ...Which was a little strange. Their opponent had specifically chosen to go for the underling first, instead of the commanding officer. Their assailant let Havoc go of her own accord. The claws receded, the man staggering with pain-filled gasps.

"Havoc!" Roy panicked. The damage had already been dealt. His subordinate had dealt what looked like a lethal blow.

_Not on my watch... He can't die when I'm here with him!_ He thought desperately. Men would die. It was inevitable. Roy had fought in the war; he knew death as a fact. But having his men die in front of him, that was different. Because it meant he could have done something to stop it. Somewhere in the fight, he had made a miscall. Bad judgement. And now Havoc was hurt because of it.

_Hurt_, not dying. He refused to believe Havoc would die. As long as Roy lived, he'd make sure the other man survived too.

Havoc took maybe three before he collapsed completely. Behind him, human flesh took form – regenerating muscles, to skin, even clothes. Lust stood above his injured subordinate. A wicked smile graced her lips.

Roy had taken her transformation as time to reach his subordinate. "Havoc, hang in there," he told the other man desperately, which sounded more like a prayer than an order. 

* * *

"Don't kid yourself..." Lust laughed. "He's a deadman." She had avoided anything that would kill him instantly. Oh yes, Jean would die... very slowly, very painfully. She'd let him bleed to death. Those stone-cold eyes of the Flame alchemist had morphed the second the claws hit Havoc. It revealed so much more about his character than any amount of gunshots or talk.

Just as Lust suspected... despite that cold exterior, Roy cared about his subordinates. Too much. More than his life. Dear Jean was going to provide an excellent means of breaking the beloved Colonel.

"No he's not," Roy growled, looking up defiantly.

Interesting. So he refused to believe the truth. He was the type to believe his ideals until the very end, when the light finally faded from his eyes. How long could he last under her thumb?

His gun fired, striking her in the heart. The pain flared again, momentarily knocking her to the ground. "Give up," Lust grinned maliciously, half sitting up. "There's nothing you can do that will kill me!" The smirk vanished when Roy stomped on her shoulder, pinning her to the ground.

"Then you won't mind... if I borrow this," Roy's face was masked completely in determination. Before Lust could contemplate what he was doing, Roy plunged his hand into her heart. The smooth texture of his glove, slightly cool and damp from the earlier dousing of water, wrapped around her heart. Veins snapped as he pulled the stone from her chest. Excruciating pain, some of the worst she'd felt, ripped through her entire being. Loudly she screamed, her body convulsing helplessly, as her heart was literally torn out. Her face froze in horror, the scream finally dying, as her entire body began to shut down. The skin deconstructed, evaporating into charcoal dust.

Roy's sigh of relief was very audible. "I need it to save Havoc," he turned to his fallen friend, her heart now clutched in his hand.

He honestly thought that he'd killed her. What a creative, but naive little fool.

As soon as her last hand disintegrated, the stone pulsed. He was too busy muttering about medicine and trying to save his subordinate to notice the change. Flesh rapidly reformed, the sickening squelching finally catching Roy's attention. His terror-stricken gaze turned, just in time to meet her lovely, still mainly muscle-without-fleshed face. The reforming flesh ignored his touch completely, essentially wrapping around his hand like a web.

"It seems like you should buy a girl dinner first, before you stick your hand through her chest," Lust said, voice distorted without all the proper vocal cords formed. Her face was still not quite formed right, half the flesh from her face ripped off, revealing teeth and an eye socket. She was born straight from human nightmares. The monster that had finally cornered its prey, and had only strike the finishing blow.

Roy cried out in shock. She could see the fear reflected in those eyes. She had him trapped, and he knew it, too. It was the moment of fear that all human beings showed when they realized that they would die. Instinctively Roy tried to move back, but her flesh was wrapped around his hand kept him firmly in place. There was nowhere to run. He shook his head as if to deny this reality.

Checkmate.

Her claws pierced his side. Beautifully he screamed, his icy demeanor completely ruined now. A dark chuckle escaped her lips, feeling his warm blood seep between her clawed fingers. Gently she extracted his hand from her heart, moving it to a more comfortable position outside of her chest. The flesh parted easily at her command, glad to be rid of the foreign object.

She had pierced him all the way through, pinning him to the wall. Her other hand held his, forcing him to remain upright. The strength had already left his legs, and he would have collapsed without her support. Roy's scream had reduced to whimpers, his once brave and emotionless face completely marred with pain. His body twitched as he held back the screams, but she had him trapped in a rather painful and uncomfortable position.

"I told you. The philosopher's stone is my core." Her blade-like fingers finally retracted from his side. A muffled cry sounded from him again, and he immediately collapsed to the ground. Lust held his right hand still, forcing him to land on his wounded side. He gasped again, but lay still outside his twitching. The fight was over.

But just for safe measure, Lust peeled off the Flame Alchemist's glove. The last thing she wanted was for him to spew flames at her. Even if she could regenerate, pain was still pain. "I really hate to do this to you. You were a prime candidate for sacrifice and all," she said in a soothing voice. Of course, it was a complete lie. Their meeting had been a godsend. This was a chance; a chance to finally enjoy something in this world. Roy was slightly more interesting than the rest of the fools in the world. She was going to make good use of their time together.

"Damn... you..." Roy managed to crack open his eyes, glaring defiantly at her. As soon as she released his now glove-less hand, he rolled to his back, finally alleviating the pressure on his injured side. Already a pool of blood was forming beneath him. His face had grown deathly pale, a trickle of blood forming from his mouth. His teeth were grit together firmly, eyes clenched as he clearly bit back the pain.

She dropped the tattered remnants of his glove on the ground next to him. "Save your breath. I want you to watch poor Jean die. Then you can die." Maliciously her smirk remained in place, as she turned and began to walk away. Her heels clicked as she casually walked away.

"Jean..." Roy repeated weakly, seeming to remember his subordinate again at her bidding. "Hey, answer me. Havoc! You can't die... not yet. Not before I do."

She continued to walk away, listening to Roy plea Havoc's name. But the other man never answered.


End file.
